


Remembered

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Battle of Five Armies, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Dol Guldur, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Thranduil, Greenwood, Little Legolas, Mirkwood, Parent Thranduil, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Post-Lord of the Rings, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Silvan elves, Thranduil - Freeform, War of the Last Alliance, Young Legolas Greenleaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: Thranduil struggles to come to terms with all the Silvan elves that are lost against the darkness. He struggles with how to make sure they matter, how they will always matter. How everything they did helped to drag him day by day closer to the end. Dates, names, sacrifice's made, and thing loved most about them. This is how they're remembered.





	Remembered

That's what Thranduil knew he needed to think of something to say. He was the king now.Kings did.

He had tried to sit in his father's old office to think but that had only made it worse. That had only made every single argument seem all the more pointless and every piece of advice more precious. He wished he had cherished more and criticized less.

He wished he was a big enough elf to fill his father's space but it swallowed him, quickly he fled pursued by his own silence.

What did you do? How did you remember a sacrifice so fundamental and monumental but so plentiful it felt like counting like blades of grass?

What did he say to the thousands of mothers who had kissed their sons and husbands goodbye to march to Mordor and didn't find a single face in any who came home? How could he ever say something to comfort pregnant wives?

What did he say?

His father had always known what to say. How to say so much but too little at the same time, enough to know he had heard and understood but not enough to say something wrong. He was good at it.

His father was so good at everything.

His father would have been able to tell him what to say to the thousands of families who were feeling exactly the way Thranduil himself did.

What could he say...

Mereneth found him. Caught him really, while he searched for another place to hide. Hide from words and expectations.

He almost thought about running again, he couldn't deal with whatever everybody else wanted him to do.

But she just wanted him not to leave her. Not again.

And so he had spent the rest of the day and the entire night laying with his head against her chest to hear her heartbeat.

She combed her fingers through his hair, hummed or sang softly but did not expect him to know what to say. She didn't expect him to say anything.

They stayed that way until she fell asleep, and then long after.

She woke when he stirred for the first time in hours, the moment the sun began to rise in the sky. "I have to go."

"Go where?"

"I have to go and make sure that they're not forgotten."

Without hesitation, she climbed out of bed and stood by his side expectantly. Her hand took his and all he could do was kiss her and hope she felt everything he could never manage to say the way he wanted to say it.

He never knew what to say.

When finally they broke apart she let go of his hand to wind her arms around his neck, "Then I'll go with you."

The arms that still ached from the swords they always seemed forced to wield and general weariness slid into their favorite place, around her waist. "You don't have to."

She smiled before kissing his cheek while a tear that slipped away from him with her hand, "Of course not, I'm a Queen now. I don't have to do anything."

"You're still coming?"

"Of course."

They both changed into fresh clothes before leaving their room hand in hand, unexpectedly for him but perhaps for Mereneth, Galion stood waiting outside. "Ah, I was just coming to make sure you were up. It seems another day where much needs to be done."

"I don't care." Galions' mouth snapped shut and he narrowed his eyes, Thranduil knew he hated this tone. He'd told him on many,  _many_ occasions. "Spread the word to every single elf in this Kingdom; 'If somebody you know and love has been taken to the Halls over the darkness, come and tell me about them. For the next four days, I'll be waiting under the biggest Oak in the Garden, after that, I will make time every single day to hear about them."

Galion seemed hesitant, "But, to what end, Thranduil? What is the purpose?"

"I will comprise a list of the names." Mereneth squeezed his hand when Thranduil's voice nearly broke "A list of elves that I will not rest until I have personally thanked them for their sacrifice when they return from Mandos' Halls."

Galion glanced between Thranduil and Mereneth to see if it was a joke, "As in, write them all in one giant book?"

"Yes. On that note, Galion, I am going to need you to find me one."

His servant for once seemed at a complete loss for words, "Of course, my King. Is there anything else?"

"That's all for now Galion, thank you."

With a small bow with a face still half-scrunched with a frown Galion turned and walked down the hall, glancing back twice in bewilderment.

And then they went to the garden.

**S.A 3434 -** _Oropher, of the Awakened. Lost Facing the fires of Mordor in defense of Middle Earth. Your endless guidance will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

By the time those four days were up his hand was as sore and raw as his heartfelt. In fact, nearing the end of the third day it began cramping so terribly that Mereneth insisted on taking over. On the fourth day as well.

Two books they had filled with the names of the fallen, along with how they had died and the most loved thing about them.

Endless eyes he had looked into as they told them the heartaches that kept them awake at night and cold inside. He never learned what to say.

But at least his mind was no longer haunted with their faces.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 106 -**   _Hithudur._   _Lost from injuries after wrestling with Warg to save his daughter. Your loving heart will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

The pages were smooth between his fingertips, the ink staining the pages in endless rows was almost mesmerizing. The fire crackled warmly but idly in the hearth, all else was silent.

Things were good, their world was peaceful.

But he needed to remember that it would not always remain that way. He needed to remember the lives already spent in payment for those left behind to have more days in the son. He needed to remember their sacrifice, their names, their talents.

He needed to remember them all.

Arms circled his neck while the hands came to rest by his chest, his wife kissed his cheek. "Again, my love? Somebody might think you are trying to memorize the names."

He leaned back in the chair into her touch, the pages forgotten beneath his fingertips, "Perhaps I am."

"For what purpose?"

Thranduil drew her into his lap, holding her close as she settled against his chest. Head nestled beneath his chin. She gave him time to think about his answer, simply enjoying the feel of his arms holding her tight. "It is easier to keep motivated against this darkness when I remember how many have already given their lives so that others could live free. When I remember their sacrifice and their love. It's easier to be King when I know how much they believe in my leadership and their lives here in this forest. It's just…. Easier."

She rested a hand over his wildly beating heart, "Even beaths, love. Even breaths."

Mereneth patted his chest in the rhythms she wanted him to breathe, every fifth beat was held for him to inhale or exhale. Eventually, his heart rate slowed to match hers. "Whatever makes life easier for you to live."

He held her closer, "You make life easier to live."

_**0.0.0.** _

**T.A 219 -** _Edrileas. Lost in the service of protecting her people from the darkness. Your jokes and laughter will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

He couldn't bring himself to write her name until weeks after. He couldn't make his hand do it. Even when he finally managed it shook like a leaf during a storm.

The only name written nearly so shaken it was illegible.

But this name did not go on a page. This name went on the inside cover of every single book he had every needed for this purpose, and every book he would ever need.

**0.0.0**

**T.A 1002 -** _Queen_   _Mereneth. Lost in a desperate and successful attempt to save her son, Legolas. I would need an entire book to list all the things I will miss about you._

**0.0.0.**

There was no sound around, everything was asleep including his son who snored in his arms, the book was open in front of him, hundreds of names and lives spilling out before him.

He held Legolas closer, rubbing a hand over his back to keep him asleep, and turned the page.

Watching as lives and loves and losses cascaded in front of his eyes. Every sacrifice. Every laugh no longer heard.

Legolas sturred and he snapped the book shut, banishing it to the drawer it resided in while he took his newly awoken elfling to bed so that he could tell him a story to entice him to sleep. Perhaps this nights in 'dead of the night tale' would be one would be about Padion, who Thranduil himself had gone through training with.

The memory of the name in his book still burned in his memory.

**S.A 3434 -** _Padion. Lost saving my life above the soils of Mordor. Your music will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

**.**

He could always tell when somebody came to his court about a loss. There was almost something in the air that whispered of their heartbreak. A small part of their soul reaching out to tell those around them how much they hurt.

Thranduil got off his throne and politely asked those had taken a seat on a nearby couch to move and welcomed the elleth to sit next to him there. These words were not ones to be shouted across distances. Here, he was close enough now that he could hear every whispered word about her daughter, about how she had gone out on a patrol and had never come back. How the captain had assured her the tree's held her safely among the roots.

As she sobbed and he put an arm around her, "Thank you for coming to tell me."

**.**

**T.A 1078 -** _Romien. Lost to save the lives of those under her command, every last one of them. Your voice in the garden will be missed until the word shares its breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

He had all the books spread out in front of him on the desk, and he flipped through them aimlessly. Eyes scanning pages and page until he found one that he hadn't yet memorized.

Until there was a voice that he had forgotten. Until there was another story to fill him with inspiration. Another loss that would keep his heart beating. Another reason to keep going forward, always, relentlessly forward.

There was a knock at his door and he knew it was Galion, which meant he had about three seconds to stash the books from sights before his attendant came in permission to enter or no since it was near the dead of night.

He had managed to get them all to put away but knew Galion had seen him snap the drawer shut.

Galion's eyes narrowed.

Thranduil knew that most Kings would never allow such an attitude from those who served them. He knew that most Kings would have long since relieved Galion of his position, but it was for the very reason Galion ough to be let go that Thranduil did not want to.

He craved the honestly his attendant brought, the voice and opinion that could never be filtered even if Galion had tried to.

"Really?" Galion asked, crossing his arms. "You are obsessed with those books. You always have been. Stop obsessing about the past, especially in the middle of the night. It's absurd."

Thranduil sighed. He craved honestly, but that did not mean that it was not still irritating when he got it.

Galion came closer to the desk and spun the book around to face him, scanning the pages. Finding the name Thranduil had been reading over and over again for hours.

"Thranduil, stop." Galion closed the book for him, "Put it back in its drawer."

Mechanically Thranduil did as instructed, he didn't need the physical pages to know every name on that page.

Galion continued to stand over him from across the desk, "Now go and see your son. Lay in bed with him if he is asleep, tell him a story if he is not."

Thranduil knew he was right. He got up from his chair and went to go and see Legolas.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A. 1002 -** _Narriel. Stolen to be raised in a home untouched by darkness and hate. Your parents cannot wait to see the elf you will one day grow to become, everything about you will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

Four books were too many.

It was so many.

Would this war ever stop? Would their pain ever end?

It was a struggle to keep his hand steady as he began another book, as customary her name stained the inside cover.

Thranduil still hadn't managed to get his hand to stop shaking when he wrote it.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 1002 -** _Queen Mereneth. Taken from me in exchange for Legolas, I miss you everyday but could never hope for a different outcome. Your son will miss you with every breath until the world shares its breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

Thranduil could never forget the way Legolas had shook like he had a fever for nearly hours, stopping only when finally the sleeping herbs from the healers took hold of his body.

He still slept nearby, for a few moments it was peaceful. For a few moments, his poor son was allowed the luxury of lighter dreams.

The candle burned near him as he raised the quill to add yet another name. To remember another name lost. Another voice and countless talents stolen to the Halls to fight a darkness they should have no business in to begin with.

He sighed.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 1178 -** _Falchion. Lost by the hand of your Prince, unrescuable but secrets unrevealed. Your spirit early in the morning will be missed until the world shares breath with you again. I'm sorry, little one._

**0.0.0.**

Sometimes, if the only one left the mourn them could not stand the burden of being the only one left to come and tell their King, they wrote him.

He could always tell which letters those were as well.

There was something about the weight of the page that told him it contained a life, whether Galion had read it first or not.

So many lost. But never forgotten.

Always, always, no matter where the letter had come from Thranduil ensured he managed to get a message back to them. 'Thank you for telling me.'

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 1213 -** _Mandah - Lost to save the forest that loved you so much. Your kind heart and echoing laugh will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again._

**.**

It almost seemed to become a nightly ritual, to skim the pages of the book. Soak up the names and lives, hearts and souls that they contained.

To feel the inspiration and motivation they managed to contain. Faces danced before his eyes with every turn of the page, either vivid memories of those the names belonged to or recollections of those who came to tell him of the loss.

The price of remembering.

Endless. Endless was their loss. Endless were the names. Endless it seemed these books would be. Endless his ink would run.

Endless…

But all these lives had been given in the hope it would not be endless. In the hope they would win. At the very least survive.

He could not give up, could not forfeit.

Not when his people still had fight in them. Not when they still wanted to try. Not when he still knew what to say to them.

**0.0.0.**

**S.A. 3434 -** _Orbelen. Lost facing the fires of Mordor in defense of Middle Earth. Your stubbornness and desire to do good will be missed until the world shares its breath with you again. I'm sorry if you died alone, dear friend. I looked for hours but never could I find you._

**0.0.0.**

They had not known a loss like this since Mordor. They had not endured heartbreak so deeply in so long that it seemed they had forgotten how to do it.

They seemed stunned with a combination of shock and melancholy. They could not be.

They needed to move.

The mountain was saved, the dragon slain and the humans alive. But they could not afford to stop moving. They could not afford to remember everyone yet.

Word was passed around camp, every order was carefully constructed to the last syllable to keep the camp running smoothly. To keep the chances of survivors as high as they could be, but at the end of every order was the message.

' _If you lost someone, go and tell the King two weeks from today. He will be in the Queen's garden for three days.'_

**0.0.0.**

**T.A - 2941 -** _Orothorion. Lost protecting a host of human children during the Battle of the Mountain. Your wit will be missed in every conversation until the world shares breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

He found his son after hours of searching, in the depths of the mountain. Newly healed hands once again broken and bloody, eyes red and swollen with heartbreak and soul crushed beneath a boulder.

Souls as soft as his were not meant for this. They were not meant to endure the crushing task of ensuring hundreds of those he knew and loved did not become forgotten.

His heart did not know how to cling to the memory of them all without shattering itself.

Legolas didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say.

Thranduil understood that.

He did.

He sat down next to the most beloved thing in the world from him, the one thing he had hoped beyond all else would survive the battle over the selfish love of gold. The one his heart needed above all else.

The ones whose name Thranduil nearly broke his own rule about praying to the Valar just to lessen the chance of Legolas' name joining his mothers and grandfathers names on the inside covers.

He held Legolas close as he began to weep again, holding his broken hands steady to keep him from ramming them into the earth again. "Come and tell me about them, little leaf. Come and tell me."

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 2941 -** _Aderthor. Lost in the personal defense of her Prince, saved from the selfish love of gold in the shadow of a mountain. Your ability to tame any beast; Elven or otherwise will never be forgotten. We will both miss you, child, until the world shares breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

He walked into his office and froze. Just as quickly as Legolas did, page carefully held in his hand half turned. Face near covered with tears.

The door clicked closed behind them.

Shadows of lives and losses dances in Legolas' eyes. The burden of a thousand heartbreaks weighed on his shoulders.

The weight of a crown.

Thranduil thought he ought to be angry at the invasion of his privacy. He should be outraged that his own son would dare to disrespect him like this.

But he had never kept a secret from Legolas before.

He had only kept this one to protect him, the strongest instinct that he possessed. Protect his son. Protect any inch of him he could at all costs.

Legolas couldn't seem to remove his eyes from the pages. "Ada...what…?"

Thranduil cleared his throat, forcing numb legs forward and towards his desk where the drawer with the lock Legolas much have picked or convinced to open still sat ajar. Exposing the other two books held within to go with the four that sat open on the desk.

"It's every name that has ever been brought to my attention to have been lost because of this shadow. Some twice, I would expect. All the souls brought to the halls of Mandos when they should have been left here with us to enjoy our forest."

Thranduil's voice was quieter than he had hoped or expected it to be. But he was not ashamed of it, not in front of Legolas.

Legolas dragged gentle fingertips over the names open and displayed to him, flipping through the lives contained within until the came to the front cover. "Why is Nana's name written on the front cover of every book, and mine after this little mark I don't understand."

Thranduil took a few steps to his own desk like the books he had looked at nearly every day for hundreds of years was some sort of poisonous snake. "Because this is a list of every single soul I plan to apologize and thank for their sacrifice, love, and devotion."

He stopped his sentence there for a moment, knowing that if he were to press on without preparing himself his voice would waver in a way that would betray his every feeling. That might as well spill every secret and name on every page of any of those books.

Legolas' finger still pointed somewhat leisurely to his mother's name, as always written with an impossibly shaky hand, but he gave his father time to think of his words.

Like his mother, Legolas knew the value of letting somebody figure out what to say. Especially somebody who was supposed to always know.

"In a perfect world, your Nana would be the first person I get to thank and apologize. And so I write her name first on every list."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully, hands flipping through the half-filled pages, past all the blank ones and to the inside cover where his name was written with an equally shaky hand followed by an old Silvan ruin. His finger came to rest next to it, and he glanced up at his father.

Thranduil, for once, was the one unable to meet the gaze of his conversation partner. Instead, he stared at the page. Studied every line of the ruin, the one he had looked over and researched for days before choosing it.

The one that was supposed to that  _ask_ to invoke the watchful eye of Yavanna to ward off something, not prayed too because Thranduil and his people did not pray. The Valar had never once answered their prayers, but Lady Yavanna had occasionally responded to requests of she judged them worthy of her attention.

Legolas didn't ask, he didn't have to.

Thranduil knew what he wanted.

"Its a request that Lady Kementári help to keep your name from ever staining the pages."

His voice wavered dangerously, but Thranduil managed to keep it more or less even. Legolas nodded thoughtfully again, eyes turned once more to the book as he flipped casually through it to the first page. This time only staring at his mother's name for a few seconds.

The book drifted shut.

Legolas looked up at him again, "Does it help?"

Thranduil nodded, nervous for some reason. Though he hardly ever was. "Yes, it does."

"Alright." Was all his son said, "I apologize that I did that, but I was worried about you. I've watched you try and hide those books from me for years… you seemed more preoccupied with them as of late."

Legolas had left them on the desk as he walked around, taking his father's hands and inspecting the blisters that riddled them. "I have been trying to catch up on all the lives lost at the mountain."

For the third time that night, Legolas nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Better than breaking your hands, I suppose."

Thranduil managed a laugh, and Legolas wiped all the tears from his face, "Yes, probably. Blisters heal quicker."

"Yes." Legolas agreed, blowing out the only candle in the room. "Let's go to bed Ada, I've had enough of ghosts for one night."

**.**

**T.A 2991 -** _Lemben. Lost ridding our woods of Spiders. Your smile and keen might will be missed until you until the world shares breath with you again._

**.**

' _I do not think my heart can take it, Legolas, if the next time I see your name it is to add it to the cursed books._

_I sent you to Rivendell, and somehow you are on your way to the same soil that stole my father from me. Please don't make me write your name here.'_

This time, Thranduil did not write his plea for his son's name on the back inside cover, but directly under his mother.

Maybe the Lady would notice it better there.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 3018 -** _Thilrion. Lost in the name of protecting her kingdom. Your uplifting spirit will be missed until the world shares breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

This would be the last time he would get blisters from adding their names.

This would be the last time he would need to dedicate days to hearing about every fallen soul.

This would be the last time he would need to add his wife's name to the front, and hopefully never Legolas' other than the back.

This would be the last time.

Please, Valar this let this be the last time.

**0.0.0.**

**T.A 3019 -** _Deadheliel. Lost to rid the world and our home of darkness for the final time. Your stubborn determination and unyielding loyalty helped to lead us to our final battle, we will miss you until the world shares breath with you again._

**0.0.0.**

By the time he left the shores of middle earth, it felt like he had nearly every name memorized. Every sacrifice and every loved thing.

It felt like he had looked into the most intimate parts of his people's lives and stolen every inch of them. But he had not forgotten.

Never once had he forgotten. And never would he.

He would cross them all of. In time. They would all come back from the Halls, they would return to breathe life back into the hearts that missed them. They would render all his soft words about their loss meaningless.

They would be back. And he would be able to cross every single one of their names out.

He would not rest until he did.

Could not rest.

Their sacrifice and love would never be forgotten. They needed to know that. They needed to know the inspiration and strength every breath they had ever taken had brought him.

Thranduil would find them all.

He would.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Can't wait to hear your thoughts!


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